


Downpour

by tattooeddevil



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Purgatory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 07:30:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tattooeddevil/pseuds/tattooeddevil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It never stops. Ever. In a world where everything changes all the time - the environment, the layout, the air - it is the one constant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Downpour

It never stops. Ever. In a world where everything changes all the time - the environment, the layout, the air - it is the one constant. It penetrates everything on and around him; his clothes, his hide-out, his skin, his mind. It turns the world around him even darker, bleaker, angrier. It makes him darker, bleaker, angrier.  
  
Grey, without contrast or saturation. Grey.  
  
He's not sure how much time has gone by; there's no sunrise or sunset, no dusk or dawn, no sleep or rest. Just awake. There is only running, fighting, killing. There's no eating; the wasteland that is Purgatory a poisonous plane of prickly plants and dry rocks. There is only exhaustion and rain.  
  
The steady downpour of yellowish water, burning his skin slowly until it starts to flake and itch, dripping into his eyes until they start to blur into sightless marbles. The everlasting sound of falling rain a static noise in his ears that drowns out half the sounds the monsters around him make.  
  
Dangerous. Unexpected attacks of which he wins half and forfeits the rest. Dangerous.  
  
He tried to build a fire. Something to burn away the shadows and all the things lurking in them. He failed. He tried to make a shelter. Something to give him three walls to hide behind and only one opening to charge him through. He failed. He tried to find a place - any place - to keep him dry. He failed.  
  
He tried to find Cas. He failed.  
  
His skin is hot, damp, scarred and chafed. His hair is dry and clumped together in patches where it hasn't fallen off yet. His mouth is littered with sores from the water on his tongue and lips. His clothes are carton-like and scratch his skin like sandpaper.  
  
He is wet down to his bones, fragile with exhaustion and pain, but when Sam finally wraps him tightly in his embrace - home - and wraps him in a soft blanket, it's not enough.  
  
It will never be enough.


End file.
